Doozy

"you ever notice 'em? the way they act? ever think somethin' just ain't right?"

When he was young he remembered to look more at models in magazines with little waist and skinny legs when Sammy hit puberty. Jerking off at the sight of little buts and coming so fucking hard thinking about big hands and long fingers around his cock.

He lied about his first time. It wasn't with a tall blond bimbo with big tits (don't misunderstood, he really likes a good fuck with a blond bimbo) but it was with a skinny brunette with a cute pixie cut. She didn't have so many curves and her tits were small. And those weren't the only things that attracted him to her. She had big eyes complemented by long eyelashes and a beautiful smile that showed her dimples.

As soon as they finished, she lay down next to him to cuddle and it felt so... wrong. Her body didn't fit with his as it should, she didn't feel right. She didn't feel like Sam.

After that night he tried to stop, no more brunettes, no more skinny limbs, no more big hazel eyes or smile with dimples. No more girls that looked like Sam. Even if he wanted so badly to sink in the fantasy.

Seeing Sammy should be enough. Sammy pouting when Dad denied something to him and his smile when Dean secretly gave it to him. Sam showing his long legs in summer days and him wearing Dean's hoodies in autumn. The way he breathed in the training, how his cheek painted red. His pink nipples that Dean had the luxury to see when Sam was out of the shower. The warmth of his body when he cuddles with Dean on winter nights. Yeah, that should be enough. It has to be enough.

It was.

But when Sammy ran away something switched inside him, the hollow inside his chest, in his /heart/ was to big to care about what was right and wrong.

After some time the girls weren't enough so his gaze drifted slowly around the boys. It was the closest and at the same time the furthest thing from Sam. It was fatal.

Dean really wanted to me make it work, close his eyes and imagine /him/ right there with him. But some boys had hazel eyes but didn't look at him right. Some had the perfect mouth but the voice wasn't right. Some had the skinny complexity but the skin was too cold or too warm. They weren't right no matter how much he wanted them to be.

But then Dad disappeared and he felt more alone than any other moment in his life.

He almost choked himself with his spit when he saw Sammy under the light of his dorm.

Of course he saw Sammy when him and dad checked on him. But it was at a considerable distance, Sam was a good hunter and they should not be detected. He couldn't see the changes so far away.

He was massive. He felt it when they struggled on the floor but saw it? His brain short-circuited. Strong arms and big shoulders. Tall and with a defined body for sure. And his chest? Those tits were huge. Dean tongue felt so dry, his hands were itchy because they wanted to feel and he couldn't take his eyes away.

Dean couldn't get hard right now, he shouldn't.

Then Jess appeared and he tried to play it cool when he snapped to reality again.

After the tragedy Dean knew he shouldn't have felt this happy but he couldn't help it, no when he had his Sammy around once again. But it didn't last, just as he was happy he also felt miserable.

He almost forgot how hard it was to live with Sam again. His desire was always slow burning inside of him, sometimes taking the best of him out of missions, but with Sam next to him Dean felt like he was set on fire. Everything burned and nothing -nobody- give a real release.

Sam looked at Dean and him felt so /right/ that he felt his heart beat so strong that was painful. His voice makes Dean feel tingling all inside. When Dean made Sam laugh he felt so proud that his chest couldn't contain it fully. To his horror it wasn't enough anymore.

He wanted-no, he needed more, he needed to felt his hands caress Sam's long hair, he needed to memorize Sam's body with his hands with his eyes with his mouth. He needs to kiss, to bite, to swallow every little thing from Sam.

Finding someone new wasn't on the table anymore because he can't deny himself anymore.

Sam, at eight years old, finds out why John is really always out. He thinks school is his only escape from home, and as long as Dean is there, no matter how many schools they go to, he'll be okay. Dean is twelve now, and he's hanging out with girls more than usual, but Sam can understand it. No one likes boring, and Dean is supposed to be cool. Sam thinks Dean is cool. Dean doesn't pick him up anymore.

Sam, at fourteen, hates school. Dean tries to coax him out by telling him he'll be by his side all the time, and Sam only curls further into the balled up position he's pushed his skin and bones into, for warmth, he says. For familiarity. Dean is eighteen now, and this is the first time in a week that he's come back home. Sam can't bring himself to look at Dean.

Sam, at seventeen, realizes that nowhere is home enough, and he'll never be able to fit in. His dad rarely comes home and Dean is out for weeks now; in bars picking up girls, scamming people for their money at pool. Sometimes both Dean and Dad are home, and Sam thinks it'll be much easier if he did it when both of them are here. He confesses he's going to stanford, and John tells him he has no place in this family. He's free. He feels it in his gut.

Sam, at twenty-three, has a knife lodged in his spine, and he wishes he could curl back into his balled up position. Dean tries to coax him out one last time, and Sam doesn't answer just like he did at eight. Dean cradles him like he used to when he was six, and Sam's hand comes up to squeeze Dean's. Dean let's out a sob. Sam isn't warm anymore, just like when he was seventeen.

Not old. Just. Older.

Older than they thought they'd be.

They do it every year. A little tradition.

Dean says "Happy Birthday."

Sam replies "Happy Anniversary." blows out his candles, receives a birthday kiss. After that? Sometimes they even make it to the bedroom.

The first time Sam had said it caught Dean off guard. They didn't have an anniversary. What would it even be? Their first kiss, first time having sex, the first time one of them had said "I love you" and meant it in a different way then they'd been saying it their whole lives?

What was an anniversary when you never officially started, you just, became?

A half smile, quizzical, confused. "What?"

"Oh Dean." Sam smiles, soft and warm. If love bloomed color he'd be pink and sherbert with it. He kisses Dean on the mouth and its years of longing and want, desire and satisfaction, devotion past lifetimes, distilled into a tender kiss. Familiar, but exciting. Shockwaves to their toes. Perfected by dozens, and hundreds of times "I've been yours since the day I was born."

Oh.

*enter sam blood on his mouth murder in his eyes*

famine : there he is!! my precious little sweet baby boy <3333 did you get the doordash i sent you?? are you still hungry? hmmm are youu? ok you can have 2 of these demons as a treat <333

I have A LOT so I'm just going to name a few of my favorites:)

Sam sometimes feels like he's being watched at all times, even if Dean doesn't seem like he's there. But he is. Dean keeps little trackers on him at all times because Sam has cut gps more than once and Dean is tired of it

When Sam started growing taller than Dean (say when he was like 17 or something, before he left for Stanford) Dean would grab at Sam's hair to make Sam bend over a little so they can at least be the same height when talking. This is how Sam developed a hair pulling kink.

Dean is also the reason why Sam has a degrading kink..

Dean would shut off the lights and turn whoever he's fucking to lay on their stomach so he can only see their back and imagine it's Sam

After Sam saw Dean's cock for the first time (I think it was s3), Dean's been finding ways to flash it more often. Sam unknowingly walks into the bathroom? Oh suddenly Dean has his pants down and he has some kinda excuse like "dude I was peeing!", Sam is telling him to zip his damn pants up while they're driving to a case? "Dude I just forgot, you're such a neat freak!"

Frank taught Dean how to wire into laptop cameras and Dean bought a whole other laptop just for that (his excuse is to finally watch stuff on his own laptop without using Sam's) and taps himself into Sam's webcam. Dean thinks he looks so pretty and focused until Sam is leaning back in his bed and his hand is trailing too low for it to just stop at his stomach. He's pushing his head back and his shoulders are shivering in minutes. Dean's the same.

If Ruby didn't die from the knife, maybe dodged it last minute or something and got out of the room in time, Dean would have found her, tied her up in a chair with a strong demon trap, and fucked Sam nasty right in front of her

Sam is freaking out trying to find the guy who did it, and Dean is like "yeah I'll be right there!"

As soon as Sam leaves, Dean goes into the bathroom, plucks the mirror off of the wall, and slides Sam's body on the floor in front of the mirror he placed. His hand (Sam's hand) starts to unbutton everything, explore everything, especially that long dick of his.

Yeah, it's his. He takes a good hour just watching how Sam's body reacts to different touches, jerks, seeing what could make it whimper the most. He busts the hardest when he sees Sam's tits out, biting at the hem of his shirt so he can lift it out of the way and see them better.

Imagine that, but during 14x13 when the entire family has dinner together. Sam asks the question, and Dean and John reach for the salt simultaneously. Then everyone just kinda stares at each other, slack-jawed, and the rest of dinner is tense and awkward as hell because their parents don't know if it's a coping thing they never grew out of or sexual. (It's both.)